Who Would Have Guessed It?
by ladyoftheLights
Summary: Albus Severus is in for an eventful first year at Hogwarts, and there are several incidents to keep him on his toes. But will Albus crumble under the pressure, or rise above everyone's expectations?
1. Who Knew

Waving to goodbye Mum and Dad, I then sit back in my seat in the Hogwarts Express. I am in a carriage with Rose and James has already disappeared off with his friends in some other carriage.

Rose is messing with her hands which are clasped in her lap. She's biting her lip nervously and looking out of the window.

"Al, I'm scared," Rose speaks up for the first time.

I look at her. "Me too,"

"But you've got James," she says.

I snort with laughter. "Yeh – 'cause James has been so supportive," I say sarcastically. "Speak of the devil," I add with a mutter.

"Hey there, little brother," James greets me with a cocky grin, leaning against the doorframe and reaching up to ruffle his hair with one hand.

I push my hair out of my own eyes self consciously.

"What, James?" I ask wearily.

"Just wanted to wish you luck before the sorting. You too, Rosie," James says this almost without any arrogance.

"Do you really think I'll be in Slytherin?" I burst out and James rolls his eyes, but steps into the carriage anyway. He sits next to me.

"How worried are you?" He asks me and Rose watches us both with her brown eyes.

"I would feel like I was letting down the family if I got into Slytherin," I say miserably. "But you're OK – you're in Gryffindor,"

"Al, Mum and Dad aren't going to disown you if you end up in Slytherin," James says with obvious exasperation.

"…they might do," I mumble.

"Now you're being pathetic," James says with annoyance.

There are voices coming louder and then a girl pokes her head round the door, her blonde hair swinging forwards.

"James! We're all about to play exploding snap – are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute, Janie," James tells the girl who smiles warmly at him and then disappears again.

"You're popular – you're a Gryffindor – and you're on the Quidditch team! James, you have nothing to worry about. But people are going to expect me to be as good as you!" I wail.

"Oh for the love of Merlin. You're Harry Potter's son! People are going to love you anyway! And you can play Quidditch. Now stop whining and suck it up, Al," With a huff of irritation, my brother stands up. "See you two later," he adds and leaves.

"Rose, what are you doing?" I ask her and she jumps slightly and blushes.

"Nothing," she murmurs and looks down.

I look around and see the blond haired boy from the platform: the one that Uncle Ron told Rosie to beat in tests. He had a silly name … Sc… something. Scorpius! That was it!

"Looking at the Malfoy boy?" I tease her and Rose immediately turns on her defensive mechanism that everyone has been subjected to over this summer holiday.

"No!" She snaps at me and blushes harder. Rose throws herself back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and muttering furiously under her breath.

"What's bothering you, Rosie?" I ask her.

"Just – I'm worried about not living up to Mum and Dad's expectations of me. Everyone is expecting me to be as clever as Mum and I don't want to let them down," Rose says all of this very quickly, and I get the impression that she has been wanting to get this off her chest for a while.

"Rose, you'll be fine – don't you worry!" I say in an effort to remain cheerful. The odds of me going into Gryffindor were certainly higher that the odds of me ending up in Slytherin. My wishful thinking certainly makes my heart feel lighter. "Shall we change into our uniforms?" I ask and Rose nods.

We both open our trunks which are residing on the seats next to us. Mum has laid out my black robes on top of everything else with a note that simply reads: _Love you, Al. _in her slanted script. I can almost hear her voice in my ear and I tuck the note carefully into my jeans pocket.

I pull my black robes on over my muggle clothing and shut my trunk. When I turn around, Rose has done the same. We share a look of nerves before the train comes to a stop. Older students pass the window outside our carriage in the corridor and there are some first years in ordinary black robes.

"Well here goes nothing," I mutter under my breath.

"Albus Potter,"

The whole of the Great Hall silences at my name. Every head turns to catch a glimpse of me: Harry Potter's son. Of course everyone is expecting me to be in Gryffindor. But I am worried: James has done nothing but tease me all summer about which house I might be put in.

The Great Hall is bathed in the light of the hundreds of floating candles and the many first year Hogwarts students such as me in plain black uniforms are pressed in together in front of the small stage, upon which are the stool and the Sorting Hat.

I timidly push my way to the front and sit on the rickety old stool. Everyone is staring at me, so I close my eyes.

_Just think – Mum and Dad were sorted on this very seat_, I think desperately to myself; this one thought comforts me a little.

"So, another Potter, eh? I though we'd had enough with your brother," the Hat sneers in my ear. I squeeze my eyes tighter. "Hm – let's see. You're brave – you've got some nerve on you, boy. But you know what you want – you aspire to grow out of your brother's shadow,"  
My heart beats at his words – my dark thoughts of jealousy for James. James, who I now see as I tease my eyelids open, is looking straight at me, his face emotionless.

The Hat carries on; "I know exactly where to put you –" I hear my heart bang painfully against my ribs in anticipation.

"SLYTHERIN!"

My stomach drops, my eyes fly open and James and I stare at each other: green eyes meeting green.

No one says a word. I think everyone is about as dumbstruck as I am. Shakily, I stand up, and stumble over to the unfriendly faces of the Slytherin table. I want to do something unmanly like cry, but I hold my head up and force myself to stay calm and act as normal.

No one here says a word to me. Gryffindor table is muttering furiously amongst themselves and James is the angriest of all.

I half expect James to jump to his feet and demand that there is a re-sort. But he doesn't. Everyone knows that the Sorting Hat's word is always final.

The Sorting continues.

'Scorpius Malfoy,' is another name that causes a deathly silence: his father and my father were sworn enemies and I'm beginning to think that everyone was expecting the same Potter – Malfoy rivalry. But now nothing is certain.

Scorpius sits next to me, but he keeps his head down and doesn't say anything.

'Rose Weasley' goes to Gryffindor, obviously. She shoots me an apologetic look, and I give her a small, strained, smile.

I look up my new table and several faces look away from me when I meet their eyes. _You've got some nerve, boy_, the Hat had said to me. I decide to put that nerve to the test.

"You're Scorpius Malfoy," I say confidently to the blond haired boy on my left. If I thought I was getting mutters a whispers, the only son of Draco Malfoy was getting even more stick than me.

"Well done, Albus Potter," Scorpius mutters without looking at me.

I don't let this put me off. "Want to be friends?" I ask and suddenly I have a surge of Gryffindor confidence in me.

"Never in a million years, Potter," comes his reply.

This only makes me more determined. "Look, no one here is going to talk to us, we might as well team up,"

Scorpius seems to be thinking this over but he still doesn't say anything else to me.

"Well fine, come to me when you've realised this might be the only friendship you'll make in this house," I add with a bit of anger and go back to eating my dinner.

I'm ravenously hungry due to not eating anything all day with nerves.

"Al! AL! ALBUS PO –"

"_What_, James?"

"Oh, hey," James looks upset and angry as he grips my arm and drags me from the crowd and behind the statue in the Entrance Hall. "This is my entire fault!" he wails. "I shouldn't have teased you all summer about being in Slytherin –"

"James – there's nothing you can do about it," I say with regret and try to ease his hold on my arm – it's beginning to hurt.

"Here – I'll go to McGonagall and –"

"Yeah, good luck with that one," I sigh and roll my eyes. "Accept it, James: there's nothing you can do. I am in Slytherin now,"

My brother looks defeated and with an apology written in his eyes, he ruffles my hair. "Stay strong, Al. You'll be alright," he says in probably what he hopes is his old arrogance. But it's weaker and I can tell he's putting on a façade to hide his distress.

"Yeah. Later, James," I try for a smile, but fail. And with that, I melt back into the crowd and head for where I can see a large congress of newly sorted Slytherins in front of the tall Head Boy and Girl.

"First year Slytherins, this way please!" The Head Boy shouts over us all and we all fall quiet. He resembles James is a way that is slightly comforting to me in a strange way with his jet black hair and pale green eyes, which aren't as vibrant as James'. But it's good enough.

We all follow the two seventh year students down the stairs and are immediately convolved in a cold chill. There is a collective shiver as we climb lower and lower until we are bathed in a ghostly green glow. We are in the Slytherin common room and by the looks of it, under the lake.

"Your things have already been taken up for you. Your dormitories are ahead, through the corridor, and boys, the door on your left. Girls, the same on your right," the Head Girl informs us and they both depart.

I look around and see the older students sneering at me. Any son of Harry Potter should not end up in Slytherin.

"What's the Potter boy doing here, anyway?" One of the sixth years yells. I keep my head down and I am the first to go up to my dorm.

"Hey, Potter,"

I glance up from my copy of 'Quidditch through the Ages', expecting some more snide comments. Instead, I see Scorpius. I nod at him in cold acknowledgment and go back to my book.

"I'd like to be friends," Scorpius tries again.

"I knew you'd come round eventually," I say, colder still. Secretly, I'm pleased, but I don't want to make things too easy for him.

"Sorry for being pompous. I shouldn't have been: I'm getting about as much hate as you are,"

I put down my book and see that Scorpius and I actually share a dorm. His initials are stamped in gold on his trunk which is at the foot of the bed next to mine.

Scorpius sits on his own bed. He's tall for our age, with striking blue eyes and blond hair which is slightly floppy.

"OK, so … you want to be friends with me?" I ask, just to make sure.

"You're quick on the ball," Scorpius quips sarcastically. But then we catch each other's eye and start laughing. "Malfoy and Potter. We'll be a good team – trust me, Albus – everyone will want to be friends with us," he assures me.

For some reason, I believe him.


	2. A Little Help From Our 'Friends'

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Well James got his way as he always does: I am in Slytherin. James thinks this is his entire fault and keeps giving me pitiful looks from over at Gryffindor table. If you could stop him doing that, it would be much appreciated. _

_I do have a friend though – I'm not sure that you will be too happy about it though, Dad, so I apologise in advance. My friend is Scorpius Malfoy. We joined forces last week seeing as both of us were being ignored by our fellow Slytherins. _

_Hogwarts is every bit as amazing as you both made out. Mum, I was given your old Transfiguration class book! _

_I hope you're not too disappointed in me. Sorry for letting you down. I wish more than anything I was a Gryffindor._

_Quidditch trials next week – I hope I can make you proud that way._

_Love,_

_- Al._

I reread my letter. With a heavy heart I attach it to the owl in front of me who was cleaning its wings. I watch the owl fly off with my letter and then look back at the small pile of homework I already had on my first week.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror hanging above the fireplace where I am sat. My green eyes stare back at me. My skin is pale and ghostly and my green Slytherin tie makes my eyes look vibrant. It doesn't make me like the uniform any more. My black hair sticks up at odd angles and I rake a hand through it self consciously to try and tame it in vain.

Keeping my head down, I pull out a quill and open my ink pot, getting ready to start an essay about moonstone for Potions.

"Hey Al," says a friendly voice behind.

"Hey Scorp," I reply tiredly and Scorpius throws himself down in the armchair opposite me.

"What you up to?" He asks me and I give him a look.

"This is called homework, Scorpius. It's what we do so we don't end up in detention," I say in a patronising voice that makes the corners of Scorpius' mouth lift up in amusement.

He waves an airy hand. "Al, Al – have _fun_!" He insists. I write down the date and title on the top of my parchment.

"I knew you'd be a bad influence on me," I mutter.  
"Ah, but a good friend,"

"Whatever," I tease him, and then laugh.

Someone is thrown into the back of my chair making me spill my ink everywhere. I don't say anything; I just lower my head and keep out of trouble.

"Hey!" Scorpius has jumped to his feet with his cheeks flushed with rage.

When I glance upwards, I see an older student sneering at me. "My mistake," he says cruelly. "I didn't see you there, _Potter_,"

"You did that one purpose!" Scorpius explodes.

"Scorpius, sit down!" I say, not wanting to cause a duel in the common room.

The older student barely bats an eyelid at Scorpius, and just walks off. Scorpius sits down, shaking in fury.

"It's not fair, Al,"

"I know,"

"Why do they have such a problem with us?"

"I think you can answer that yourself,"

"We'll show them, Al,"

That's what I'm worried about though. Scorpius has this idea that everyone will be our friend soon – I'm not sure how he's worked that one out seeing as he's the son of the infamous Draco Malfoy and I'm the son of Harry Potter who somehow ended up in the wrong house.

I don't say anything back to him: I clean up the spilt ink and roll up my parchment.

"I'm going to finish this in the library. See you later," I mutter to Scorpius and exit the Slytherin common room.

As soon as I enter the lower floor of the Portrait Hall, I am bathed in warmth that I relish in. I can feel the chill of bare stone melting away from me as I walk along up the moving staircases and through the portrait that takes me to the fourth floor.

Students keep looking at me and then looking at my tie. This eventually annoys me so much that I ease off my emerald tie and stuff it unceremoniously into the pocket of my robes.

I enter the quiet sanctuary of the library and relax. People are too engrossed in work, or books or quiet conversations to even notice me.

I settle myself down in a corner near the Restricted Section where no one is and pull out my essay.

"Al!"

I look up to see Rosie hurrying towards me looking stricken.

"Rose – what is it?" I ask her hurriedly and stand up to meet her.

"It's James … just … come on!" Words seem to have failed my favourite cousin as she grasps my hand and drags me out of the library.

We race down the hallway and I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as Rose comes to a halt in front of the double doors of the Hospital Wing.  
"Go in," Rose tells me and wordlessly, I push open the doors.

The Hospital Wing is clean and white with high ceilings and large windows that flood light through.

James is lying in the third bed on my right hand side, I hurry over to him.

"James?" I ask uncertainly. "James?" I try again.

My brother opens one eye. The other is shut due to swelling.

"What happened to you?" I breathe. James has a few bruises on his face and a pretty impressive black eye.

"I got into a fight, little brother," he answers me. I heave a sigh of relief. He's not that badly injured – I can hear his swagger in his weak voice.  
"With who?" I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms across my chest. "You had me worried – I thought it was something really serious!"

"Well I might have got into a fight with a Slytherin who was bad mouthing you. They might have been bigger than me and we might have resorted to muggle violence …" James says somewhat sheepishly. My worry is back.

"You got into a fight with someone just because they were bad mouthing me? James, you idiot, I can fight my own battles,"

"Don't let Mum catch you saying that, Al, she'll skin you alive. It's bad enough that I got beaten up,"

"Seriously – James – I don't care what anyone says about me! I don't care that no one in Slytherin likes me apart from Scorpius. Hell, I don't even care that I'm _in _Slytherin anymore,"

OK, so maybe that last part isn't entirely true. But James doesn't need to know that.

"Well we both know you're lying about the last part, Al,"

Damn.

"Al – you're my little brother. It's my duty to protect you," James says. I snort with laughter.

"Since when did you become all protective over me?" I ask in amusement and a frown line appears on James' forehead.

"Since I realised that you might actually need me." He says shortly.

James' words keep floating round in my head as I lie in my bed. He's my big brother – of course I need him. But I hadn't realised how bad things were getting. For example: it takes a lot to push James over the edge – Rose and I know that from personal experience – so that Slytherin must have been saying some pretty bad things for James to start a fight with someone bigger than him. I mean, I know I swear blind that James has a troll brain; but he's not _that_ stupid.

I toss and I turn and eventually get a clue, accepting that I am not going to be able to sleep tonight. But it's OK. Tomorrow is a Saturday and I can lie in until all hours.

When I throw the covers off me, the cold night chill stabs my legs like tiny needles and I stand up. The air is still and deadly silent. I am suddenly conscious of my every breath and footfall which seems to echo, magnified times 100 in the crypt like silence.

I wander tiredly into the common room where the last embers of the fire are burning off. I sit on the hearth rug, pulling my knees up to my chest and gazing into the glowing coals.

"Albus Potter?"

I give a start and spin round to see a rugged looking boy standing in the doorway. I give a stiff nod of the head and stand up to sit in a sofa: I'm not moving just because he's here.

"I'm Glenn Mason," the boy introduces himself. "I'm in fifth year," I give another stiff nod, but there's nothing in this guy's voice that suggests that he is going to beat me up.

"Hi," I say.

Glenn is tall and burly and he looks like he belongs on the Quidditch team as a Beater. His green blue eyes are kind and his hair is a dark shade of blond, and messily tousled on his head.

"I can imagine it's been tough for you. Everyone's been so hostile towards you," Glenn manages to state the obvious. But I don't say anything because he's bigger than me.

"Well yeah – I mean I shouldn't even be in this house,"  
"But you are, so what are you going to do about it?"

I falter. And then sigh.

Glenn comes and sits next to me.

"You're not hated," Glenn says. I give a laugh of mirth.

"Sure I'm not. Everyone's just bad mouthing me in the corridors, bumping into me on purpose and sneering at me in the common room because they _like _me!" I act surprised and Glenn rolls his eyes.

"No – but everyone's expecting you to be in Gryffindor – and now you're in Slytherin, so everyone in Slytherin is just treating you like you're a Gryffindor. You've got to do something to show them that you're not,"

"Hey – if you're suggesting beating someone up –" I start heatedly, but Glenn waves me down.  
"Chill – what are the traits of Slytherins?" Glenn asks me.

"Sly, cunning –" I begin and Glenn cuts me off there.

"Cunning, OK, lets work with that one," Glenn thinks for a minute. "Have you ever pulled a prank on someone?"

I can't conceal the grin that creeps to my face. "All the time; my cousins and I always play pranks on my brother James,"

"Great! OK, now here's the deal. You and Scorpius set up a prank between you to win the laughter of the Slytherins. You won't be pretending to be anything you're not if what you told me is true, that you do it all the time,"

"I see what you're saying …" I contemplate him. "But why are you helping me?"

Glenn regards me for a second or two before he answers. "Because I know what it's like to be prematurely judged," is all he tells me.

I race back down the corridor and burst into my dorm.

"Scorp!" I whisper hurriedly. He doesn't even stir. "SCORP!" I whisper louder and shake him.  
"Wha – Al?" He opens one eye. "This had better be good,"

"It depends on whether or not you want people to like us,"

I have his attention as he sits up in bed, suddenly alert even though its way past midnight. "I'm all ears, Potter,"

In an excited, hushed whisper, I tell him all about Glenn and the plan to pull a prank and get the Slytherins to like us.  
By the time I have finished Scorpius' eyes are wide with happiness and excitement. I can almost hear the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Al, this is pure genius!"

"I know, Scorp – but what if it all goes wrong?" I muse out loud, but Scorpius simply waves an airy hand and reaches up to run his long pale fingers through his platinum hair.

"Then we try again – I tell you, Al, it's not fair that we are the only two Slytherin first years who are shunned," the fire is back in Scorpius' voice, but I understand him.

This might actually work.


	3. Chalk Kittens and Quidditch Trials

"Albus, wake up!"

"No. Leave me to sleep."

"Al, come on – we still need to think of a good prank!"

"Well I'll dream one up in my sleep then,"

"Oh come _on_!"

Scorpius yanks the covers off my bed and I get up to punch him in his smug face before he runs into the shower.

It's a Saturday and I have tons of homework to get done. It's been a week since my talk with Glenn Mason and since then, Scorp and I have been drafting and redrafting pranks to pull and tricks to play. Our current list includes of setting a bunch of chocolate frogs free in a lesson, but that would prove to be expensive, slipping someone a love potion, or pulling some kind of prank on Mrs Norris.

I guess we could prank a teacher; that would be recognised well if we can pull it off. How about … oh Merlin. I've got it.

"SCORPIUS!" I yell, banging on the bathroom door. The vain git spends too long in there anyway. "I HAVE A PLAN."

Luckily for me, all the other dorm mates have already left to spend the day basking in the wonderful late September sunshine. Unluckily for Scorpius, his morning routine in the bathroom was going to be cut short – admittedly by my genius plan.

"What the hell are you on," Scorpius says slowly, opening the door. He's clothed and midway through towel drying his platinum blonde hair.

"Don't be hypocritical Malfoy, just fifteen minutes ago you were yelling in my ear and ripping off my duvet." I say haughtily.

"Alright, Potter, get on with it," he says with a half grin.

"We enchant the chalk to write stuff on the blackboard whilst the teacher is trying to write with their back turned to us!" I say quickly and excitedly.

Scorpius frowns slightly. "Simple, but I like it. Which teacher would we do it to?"

"Slughorn? No one is that bothered about him anyway. I've heard everyone call him a bumbling idiot."

"But he likes you and me, Al! He calls us the dream team,"

I grin wickedly. "Precisely,"

Scorpius pulls out a quill and parchment and begins to jot down our plan in his fluent handwriting which I'm always jealous of; you can tell he's been well brought up. However, I know better than to admire it aloud: he screws up his nose and complains that he writes like a girl even though I've _seen_ him take pride.

"So maybe we can build on it a bit," he says. "Like making the chalk turn into a feather or something,"  
I nod eagerly. "Yeah, that's great!"

"You ready?" I whisper.

It's finally the day; the whole of Slytherin first years in Potions class. For all our arrogance and confidence whilst planning this, I'm feeling a little bit sick and nervous. And looking beside me in class, Scorpius isn't looking too great either.

"Let's do this, Al," he mutters back firmly. I nod once.

Slughorn is rambling on about moonstone and wolfsbane, but no one is listening; most of us have got our heads on our desks, or looking wistfully at our cauldrons, wondering when we get to brew our own potions.

"Now." I murmur.

Scorpius' hand shoots up into the air. He waves it around a bit to catch Slughorn's attention.  
"Ah! Scorpius – yes, m'boy?" He says with a grin of favouritism. I can almost feel everyone's eyes rolling behind our backs.

"Just wondering, Sir, if you could possibly go through that last part again?" Scorpius says clearly and confidently, with the perfect amount of innocence in his voice.

"Certainly, m'boy!" Slughorn booms jovially and launches into a long winded lecture again, beginning to walk between the rows of desks.

I take my chance. Pulling out my wand, I cast 'Wingardium Leviosa' on the chalk and carefully begin to write "_I've got an ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom._"

I've caught the attention of most of the class (the others are being excitedly nudged awake by friends) and people are smiling in amusement. They've twigged what I'm doing and surprisingly, no one has turned me in yet.

"Sir, I still don't understand how wolfsbane and moonstone work together!" Scorpius sighs and looks perplexed. The class have now caught on to how this is working.

"You see, Scorpius," Slughorn starts again.

I use the chalk to write "_cough to see the chalk turn into a kitten_". The muffled laughter of my classmates turns into a monstrous coughing fit of 40 students. Slughorn looks astounded at the unison of the class.  
"_Feraverto_," I whisper, pointing at the chalk. I'm a first year, this shouldn't work – but by Merlin's underpants, there sits a small white kitten, mewing on Slughorn's desk. The whole class explodes in laughter as Professor Slughorn looks utterly bewildered.

"Irma!" I state, putting on an air of relief. "There you are!" I stand up, running to the front of the classroom and scooping up my 'long lost kitten'. My new kitten mews in my arms and the class is beside themselves laughing at the look on Slughorn's face.

"Mr Potter!" He says. "Go and take your cat back to your dorm at once!" He doesn't sound angry; just confused.

"Right away, Sir!" I gabble and walk out of the room with Irma in my arms. I can hear the laughter of first year Slytherins echoing through the dungeons and I allow myself a huge triumphant grin, giving Irma a proud squeeze. She mews in response.

When I reach my dorm, I place my new kitten on the bed.

"Now what shall I do with you?" I ask her, tickling her under her chin. Irma starts purring and I find myself quite attached to her. I can't change Irma back to a piece of chalk.

"Al, that was AMAZING!"

Scorpius looks like he's about to wet himself with happiness.

"I KNOW!" I say back. OK, so I am thrilled about this too.

"Slughorn has had to cancel class early seeing as no one could settle down properly."

"Brilliant!" I grin.

We head through to the common room (after I have made Irma a little nest at the end of my bed using one of my many jumpers from Grandma Weasley). Scorpius and I are met with cheering and more laughter.

"You guys that was amazing!" Some girls who I don't even know are gushing over us and even the boys are telling us how good the prank was.

Scorpius can hardly wipe the smile off his face as a girl begins to flatter his ego. I roll my eyes are him, amused and start talking to a boy in my year.

"Well done, Potter,"

Glenn Mason is walking up to me with a proud smile on his face. "The whole of Slytherin and most of the school is talking about this."

"Really!" I say, smiling back at him.

"Oh yeah." Glenn is still grinning. "You're a smart kid, Potter. I think things will be just fine for you here,"

"Yeah," I heave a sigh of relief. "I'm hoping so,"  
"That was a pretty awesome prank you and Malfoy pulled; simple, but effective,"

"Slughorn had to cancel class early," I say, drawing myself up proudly.

Glenn laughs. "So I've heard,"

_Albus Severus Potter,_

_If the rumours I'm hearing from an extremely proud Uncle George (courtesy of James) are anything to go by, you just pulled your first prank on a teacher. Good on you, Al! Just be very careful, and I'll try not to let your mother know. _

_Good luck with Quidditch trials!_

_-Dad._

I heave a sigh of relief and pass the short note from Dad on to Scorpius who laughs and hands it back to me. As I tuck it in my robes, I take another bite of toast, my stomach churning with nerves.

Today is the day of Quidditch trials which have been newly opened to first years. Of course, due to hysteria of it, most of my year is applying.

"Ready to go, Al?" Scorpius says, finishing his bacon and chugging down pumpkin juice.

"Sure thing,"

Together, we head out to the Quidditch pitch. It's a beautiful September morning; the early morning sun is bathing everything in a pale yellow glow and there is a very slight breeze.

"Scorp,"

"Mm?"

"What happens if one of us gets the Seeker position but the other one doesn't?"

Silence. Scorpius and I regard each other in the knowing that both our fathers played the position of Seeker on their teams and against each other. To not get that position (or even to fail getting on the team) would make us feel like we were letting down our fathers.

"Alright, you lot," the Slytherin team captain makes himself heard over the riot of the new comers. What remains of his team are standing behind me, some looking superior over us, and some looking sympathetic; obviously remembering their first tryouts, too. "I'm Dean Harvey, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and one of the chasers. Behind me; Joanna Taylor, chaser," Joanna nods at us all with kind brown eyes and her black hair is back in a ponytail. "Glenn Mason and Sam Harper, beaters," the two fifth year boys give arrogant grins and wink at some of the first year girls who just about faint. Glenn gives me a friendly smile. "And finally, Hannah Clarke, our Seeker," Dean gives a special smile to Hannah who blushes slightly, running a hand through her flaxen hair and nodding at us all.

"At least that's that one sorted then, Scorp," I whisper. He grins at me. I can't help feeling relieved; I couldn't bear it if mine and Scorpius' friendship ending over a Quidditch tryout.

Dean clears his throat and turns back to us, just about tearing his eyes away from Hannah who begins to self consciously tie her hair back. "Right. Let's see what we've got then,"

For the next half hour, Dean begins to throw people off the pitch without as much of a 'how do you do'. First, he throws out the Gryffindor second years who are happy that Dean has even acknowledged their existence. Then, the people who don't have brooms (narrowing the new comers down considerably); next, Dean announces that anyone who wants to watch is welcome to take their place in the stalls which sends another 20 odd people off the pitch. Until there's about 30 of us left, clutching our broomsticks and feeling exceedingly nervous.

"Potter, Malfoy," Dean comes up to us with a smirk of appreciation. "Glad you two could make it. Any position in particular you'd like to try for? Granted that the only two positions going are chaser and keeper and there are about 35 of you here,"

If our Slytherin captain is trying to raise our spirits, he's not doing a very good job.

"I'm happy to try for either," I say.

"Same," Scorpius nods.

"Good," Dean says happily. "Flexibility; I like it," he turns to his team. "Up in the air, you lot – lets show them what to do,"

The Slytherin Quidditch team mount their brooms and kick off in unison; the two beater's show off a bit for the girls who appreciatively cheer from the stalls. Dean flies past them and yells at them to "knock it off."

"For those of you wanting to try for chaser, mount your brooms and join Joanna and I. The rest of you are just going to have to wait," Dean announces.

With a look of terror, Scorpius and I give a nod to each other and follow Dean's orders.

"Alright," Joanna takes over from Dean and smiles. "A chaser has to be good at catching and throwing, mainly. So for this tryout, Dean and I are going to trial you all one by one. All you have to do is be ready and to act on instinct,"

Inwardly, I grin. Mum was a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and this is the kind of thing her, me and James used to do when we were younger. Scorpius is before me, and I have to say, he isn't very good. Dean and Joanna are encouraging, but as soon as his turn is over he dismounts his broom dejectedly.

"Potter, you're up!"

I fly over to Joanna and Dean and the process starts again. I don't drop the Quaffle once and I can tell that they are visibly impressed with me.

When I join Scorpius on the ground, he's being a good friend. "Al, you were amazing!" He gushes.  
"Thanks, Scorp," I grin. "You were good too," I add.

His expression clouds over. "Not really,"

"Don't worry," I say cheerfully. "Keeper tryouts next,"

"Everyone wanting to try for Keeper, get in the air and fly over to the goal posts," Dean yells and follows us all over.

"For this, my chaser and I are going to try and score goals. Your only aim is to stop them going through. You each get three tries – and pardon my bluntness; but if you let two or more through, don't even bother hanging around to see if you got a place,"

There's a collective gulp.

One by one, Dean calls us up. Many are terrible and take themselves back up to the castle to enjoy what's left of their Sunday morning unless they've also tried out for chaser.

"Right, Potter, show us what you're made of," Dean signals to me to position myself in front of the goal posts. I think back to what my mum always used to tell me. _If you're trying to score, you feign and then go to the opposite hoop_.

Joanna is sent up to score against me. She feigns to the left and I call her bluff, catching the Quaffle from the right hand post. Next time, she's not as obvious, and scores clean through the middle hoop.

"Come on, Potter!" I hear Scorpius cheering me on and I smile.

Joanna takes her time, feigning left, then right, zigzagging. I remain calm and steady until the last minute when she throws the Quaffle. I only just manage to deflect the ball with the tips of my fingers.

"Well done, Potter! Stick around," Dean looks impressed. "You're up, Malfoy,"

Scorpius takes his place, and I must say; he's a flawless keeper. Effortlessly saving all the shoots that Joanna places; not even Dean can score against him. It's pretty obvious who's got the position.

"Thanks for trying out, everyone," Dean says. "I'm pleased to say, Malfoy, you're our new keeper, and Potter – you're our new chaser,"

"Great, thanks!" Scorp and I gush and grin triumphantly at each other.

"Quidditch practise starts next Saturday – _don't_, be late," Dean emphasises.

As if I'm missing that.


End file.
